


Helpless

by ForLoveOfLiberTea



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Delinquent, Friends to Lovers, Jewelry, M/M, Punk England (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 04:31:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14536716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForLoveOfLiberTea/pseuds/ForLoveOfLiberTea
Summary: He's not scared, no, not at all.He's bloody terrified.





	Helpless

**Author's Note:**

> [ requested by ami-v-dragnire. published on tumblr on January 24th, 2018. dialogue prompt: _"It's gone."_
> 
> Note: this is kinda a Soulmate AU where everybody has their hearts literally worn on their sleeves, but not quite: a sort of fragile, heart-shaped jewel representing the person’s heart is contained in a locket. When the time comes, it breaks cleanly into two pieces, and whoever’s half matches your own when you place the jewels side by side in the locket will be your Soulmate. I really don’t know if this makes sense, but well then, here goes nothing. ]

He’s not scared, no, not at all.

He’s bloody _terrified._

His fingers shake as he reaches up, running his hands methodically through his perpetually messy blond hair in a futile effort to keep his calm. He’s breathing fast, and he’s pretty freaking sure he’s starting to hyperventilate, and _oh,_ Jesus _Christ,_ are those _tears_ blurring his vision?

A choked noise vaguely resembling a sob escapes, past his rapidly clogging throat and his stammering lips as he falls to his knees and he clutches at his hair, silently screaming why, why, _why?_ Why?

Why did this have to happen?

Arthur breathes in deep, pulling in as much oxygen as he can before he lets it all out as quickly as he inhaled. He shudders, rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands as he clutched at his half-empty locket.

The other half of his heart-shaped diamond is gone, and Arthur doesn’t know where it is now.

“It’s…” he gasps, softly, holding it close to his chest as he fights back tears. He hates feeling so vulnerable, so goddamn _helpless,_ but he can’t help it. “It’s gone, _gone,_ and it’s all my fault, my own bleedin’ fault, I’m such a fucking _idiot..”_

It would’ve been fine if only he’d paid enough attention when Bonnefoy and his posse of bastards had picked a fight again. It would’ve been fine if only he’d thought to leave his locket in safe hands before he rose to the bait and got himself dragged up to his feet by the chain of his locket and slammed to the door of some locker when his insults cut them too deep.

It would’ve been fine if Alfred, his martyr of a best friend, hadn’t stepped in even after he’d yelled that he didn’t _need_ help, _stay out of this, goddamnit!_

But it was over and done with, wasn’t it? The other half of his jewel, the half meant for his soulmate is gone, gone, and who knows who has it now at this point.

So now he’s here, lamenting his stupidity as he cries and digs his fingers into the smooth metal of the locket’s base, feeling the engraved word into the back of the polished silver—he knows it by heart at this point, and every person has their own word engraved into the back of the locket they receive at birth. Arthur knows his, and he hates himself all the more for it as he reads that one word, over and over, as he traces a finger over the remaining half of the pale blue diamond.

_‘Always’._

There’s someone knocking insistently on his door, but he ignores it. It’s probably one of his brothers, come to make him stop his incessant caterwauling.

It’s not them, Arthur realises as the door is forced open, and familiar blue eyes gaze down at him.

“Artie,” the nickname is whispered so quietly the Briton can hardly believe that it’s come from this normally hyperactive boy’s tongue. “I—“

“Why’re you here?” It’s a slurred demand, and Arthur stifles yet another sob as he watches Alfred kneel down before him, his own locket clutched in his hand. In the dim light of his bedroom, Arthur can barely see the engraved word at the back of the American’s golden locket— _‘Forever’._ “Come to see me in my misery, haven’t you? Think it’s funny to see a usually tough delinquent in tears over losing half of his soulmate jewel?”

Alfred sighs, and he reaches out a hand, carefully grasping Arthur’s own—the hand which holds his half-empty locket. And in one swift movement, he turns it over, slipping a small, glittering item into its empty space—half of a beautiful, vibrant emerald.

“I don’t want to see you miserable, Arthur,” Alfred says softly as he reaches up, slipping the chain of the silver locket around the neck of its stunned owner. “And I didn’t want to see you hurt.”

And he smiles as he leans in, pressing his lips to his in a sweet kiss.

Between them, two lockets, one silver and one gold, both equally filled with two halves of a pale blue diamond and an emerald, glimmer faintly in the moonlight streaming in from the open window.

**the end.**


End file.
